


O Mio Babbino Caro

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Job Fridays Challenge, Classical Music, Father/Son Incest, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, Innuendo, Inspired by Music, M/M, Male Slash, Music, Musical Instruments, Post-War, Romance, Slash, Summer, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is either pure as the driven snow or the next Dark Lord. Lucius is unsure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Mio Babbino Caro

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Nowhere except here, and not in translated form either.

It had never, for a moment, occurred to Lucius, that encouraging Draco to learn a musical instrument would place him in his own very special hell, but there it was. He knew, until Draco found a hobby more engaging, his surprisingly musical son would continue to add hot coals on a daily basis.

"I learned a new piece, father," Draco said proudly, when he found Lucius sitting in the garden on a warm summer's day, still recuperating from the war. "Shall I play it for you?"

Lucius placed his open book, pages down, across his lap. "Of course, my dear."

One minute later, he wished he could bite his tongue off. With the first few notes, he recognised the piece: Puccini's _O Mio Babbino Caro_. It was at times like these that he could not decide whether Draco was innocence personified or the next Dark Lord.

Draco stood before him, his pink lips caressing the mouthpiece of his fine silver flute as he played, his fingers fluttering up and down the air holes. He was swaying like a gentle breeze, and it seemed, at least to Lucius, that even the birds had paused their song to just listen. He stared, transfixed, at the rapturous expression on Draco's face, licking his increasingly dry lips with each brief pause Draco took to draw breath. When Draco's eyes fluttered closed as if under his own enchantment, Lucius did not quite manage to suppress a low groan.

Draco's eyes flew open as he met his father's over the length of the flute, and Lucius could only guess at the expression on his own face when Draco's eyes widened and he played a wrong note. He stopped playing and moved a little closer, before kneeling down in the grass at Lucius' feet.

Lucius clutched the arm rests of the wicker garden chair so hard, they creaked. Was that a smirk on Draco's lips?

"Sorry, father, I'll start again," Draco said cheerfully.

Lucius nodded, trying to smile encouragingly. He relaxed the death grip on the chair, but it was a struggle not to bolt.

This time, when Draco began to play, his eyes met Lucius' and would not let go. He tilted his head gently from side to side as he played, barely blinking. Lucius did not dare lick his lips now, just swallowing hard once in a while. One time, when he did, Draco's eyes flicked to his throat, then slowly moved up again, lingering on his mouth. Lingering so long, Lucius began to feel a slight pressure where the open book rested in his lap, and as he had not moved it by hand... 

"Draco.." he started, intent on putting an end to his torment. He was shocked by the huskiness of his voice.

Draco stopped playing, but only long enough to lick his lips and say, "This is hard, father. I need more practice. I'll try to do better." He smiled apologetically and started the confounded piece over again.

Lucius closed his eyes and tried not to grind his teeth. He let his thighs fall open slightly to relieve some of the pressure. When he looked down at Draco again, he could have sworn the boy had moved even closer. He was very nearly kneeling between his thighs, gazing up at him-- Gazing at the spot where the book lay! Draco was assessing the book's awkward angle; it looked about to drop to the floor, only held up by the very reason Lucius had had to shift in the first place. It would have been amusing, Lucius thought, were he not dying a thousand deaths.

Draco played the piece all the way through this time, with great tenderness. His mouth caressed the instrument as his fingers travelled up and down its length. Lucius watched helplessly as the long pale lashes fluttered above the slightly darker than usual grey eyes - eyes which moved up and down between Lucius' lap and his face.

When Draco finally came to the last note and lowered the flute to his own lap, Lucius knew his eyes had to be showing the barely controlled storm within him. He hardly dared to breathe when Draco looked at the flute in his hands speculatively, then placed it across Lucius' thighs.

"Do you think I play well, father?" he asked softly.

"You play beautifully, Draco." Lucius' voice was deep and husky. He held onto the arm rests again.

Draco smiled up at him, his slender hands holding the flute in place by way of resting, palms down, on Lucius' thighs. "Thank you, father." He bit his lower lip, and Lucius swallowed. "Then, do you think I have earned a gift?"

Under any other circumstances, Lucius would have laughed at such a perfectly Malfoy bit of cunning. As it was, words failed him, and he could only nod.

Draco gazed up at him from under his long lashes, smiling. "This is a beautiful flute you've given me, father, but... there is one even more beautiful and precious, and I desire it very much." He licked his lips - slightly swollen from playing - and breathed a promise, "I would play it so well."

And Lucius relaxed his grip on the chair arms and leaned forward. His Draco, he knew, had the makings of a virtuoso.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> "O Mio Babbino Caro" means "Oh, My Beloved Father". It's an aria by Puccini, which is beautiful performed on any instrument or combination of instruments, with or without a soprano.


End file.
